My Surname Is Wang, and My Neighbor Is Wu Dalang

Is the main character, Wang Po, whose surname is Wang?

Han Qin was sent to the brothel? She liked the protagonist so much! What a terrible plot! Damn it!

Today's chapter is a complete disaster. Wang Lin, a commoner, spoke passionately and recklessly in front of the emperor, making irresponsible remarks about state affairs, which is a capital offense. The emperor bestowed official titles and made promises right in front of a commoner, without any imperial decree or imperial strategy—it's infuriating! Did you run out of drafts and hastily write this? Are both of you lacking in intelligence, or are our intelligences just too low?

This book is entirely driven by women; every villainous second-generation heir seems to have never seen a woman before and wants to sleep with her at first sight. Then the protagonist appears, a conflict ensues, and then the plot unfolds with the protagonist taking down the villain. Is this a lighthearted, wish-fulfillment story? I only saw lighthearted stories, not wish-fulfillment ones.

This is outrageous! The emperor was kicked into eunuch status by Gao Yanei and he didn't even kill him? What a spineless emperor! This is pure simplistic fiction! It's poisonous!

Seeing Han Qin fight for her mother's return to the ancestral grave and retaliate against Han Yan for the death of her betrothed at the age of fourteen, while the protagonist, in protecting his wife, sends Han Qin, who is not actually bad but just unlucky and loves him, to the authorities for investigation (although the protagonist is unaware that Han Qin loves him, and Han Qin and her mother are…

The scene of the envoy to the Jurchens had to be so fantastical! Even a skinny old witch like Wu Song couldn't get close? Couldn't they be more normal? It's getting increasingly awkward!

The scene where Han Qin and her mother plotted against each other, while reflecting the helplessness of concubines and illegitimate children in ancient times, felt incredibly contrived. Why arrange such a scene—sending a woman who admired the protagonist to his bedchamber and sacrificing her pitiful mother and two maids—to warn an ungrateful political enemy? Why use such an unpleasant method to warn a prime minister he recommended, who had only been in office for two or three months? Sigh!

I feel the author's writing in the later parts was poor and too stupid. He became a traitor to Cao Cao, yet still held considerable military power and even charged into battle himself – it's laughable. Once the protagonist dies, his power dissipates, and his beautiful wives and concubines are divided up among others.

It feels like a wish-fulfillment novel disguised as a wish-fulfillment story. The protagonist repeatedly says that the Song Dynasty cannot be thrown into chaos, using various excuses to justify his refusal to rebel no matter how many times the court tries to kill him. I hope the ending isn't what I expected.